


ne reste pas seul dans le noir

by milleseptcent



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: I have no shame, M/M, Paris Saint-Germain F.C., also yes I did change the rules in the middle of the challenge. so what, and yes the title is from a vald song, halloween prompt challenge, not an official challenge I made my own
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-06 09:40:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16385561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milleseptcent/pseuds/milleseptcent
Summary: Ten 500-words drabbles for the ten days to Halloween.Day one:Autumn chillsDay two:Black catDay three:Magic trick





	1. Autumn chills

Autumn unfurls over Paris all at once sometime in late October, the grey clouds settling over the city like a spell. One evening they’re running on a pitch set afire in golds and pinks by the sunset of a never-ending summer, and the very next morning they find the grass gleaming silver with frost under pale sunlight.

“I don’t like this,” Julian mutters into his scarf as he walks out the building at Camp des Loges. He shudders at the prickling cold that seems to digs deep into his skin, like iced fingers clawing at his face. Choupo-Moting snickers next to him.

“That’s because you’re weak. How are you from Gelsenkirchen?”

“Just because I’m a Northerner doesn’t mean I have to be delusional like the rest of you,” Julian says wryly, eyeing Eric’s training shorts.

They hear the locker room door open behind them, Presnel’s loud laugh seeping out before the man catches up with them.

“What are you two talking about?”

“Your man’s complaining about the weather,” Choupo-Moting answers, smiling as he adds: “ _ Miskine _ ."

Presnel laughs, hitting him lightly on the shoulder in approval before he turns to Julian:

“Aw, babe, are you feeling cold? Come here, I’ll make it better.”

Presnel clasps both of Julian’s hands in his in a grand gesture - his hands feel good on Julian’s skin as he rubs feeling back in his fingers. The heavy feeling that has been seeping into his skin since he stepped onto the pitch subsides a little bit, and Julian doesn’t know if it’s Presnel’s warmth or the way he seems to glow like a light in the fog, but he sighs in relief all the same.

When Tuchel finishes his pre-training speech Presnel presses a kiss to each of Julian’s knuckles before he lets his hands go. Immediately, the unease rushes back into Julian, sending a shiver through his spine, and he clings to Presnel’s arm before he realizes what he is doing.

He forces himself to keep his gesture casual as he rests an arm around Presnel’s waist. Presnel doesn’t question it, and slings his arm around Julian’s shoulder. Julian’s hand slips under all the layers of his winter training clothes to settle on Presnel’s skin, almost burning hot under his cold fingers.

“Are you feeling warmer?” Presnel murmurs in his ear, and Julian frowns.

“A bit. That weather is weird, though.”

“Yeah, climate change really is going to get us all, isn’t it,” Presnel jokes. “Guess we forgot what winter was like.”

“Not weird like that. It gives me a bad feeling.”

“You’ll get used to it, don’t worry. This can’t be worse than where you’re from.”

Julian makes a noise of assent, not really convinced. He frowns and looks at the sickly overhead lights that cut through the mist on the pitch. The strange unease pools in his chest, liquid and heavy like lead. He represses another shiver and grips a bit tighter at Presnel’s hip, drawing him closer.

There’s something weird about the weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! ok, so I know that I am already late to post the first drabble, I tried to post it yesterday, I really did, but life made that impossible haha. I'll try to post another one later today and to maintain a regular posting schedule from then on.
> 
> title is from a Vald song, and it will change as soon as I find something better because this just won't do.
> 
> oh, and if you're there you've probably read the terrible angst that @vulcanistics has subjected us to yesterday. Should I write a fix-it? I really want/need one and I'm willing to take the matter into my own hands...


	2. Black cat

Julian grimaces as he steps out of his car and into the mist that is still hanging around Camp des Loges. He gets his bag from the trunk of his car, humming to himself in the quiet parking lot, then begins to walk to the training facility. Another car breaks the heavy silence, the muffled beat of music hinting at its owner. Julian smiles and slows his pace, listening to doors slamming and Presnel and Christopher’s voices catching up to him.

He’s just reaching the steps that lead to the door when he spots  _ it _ , standing a bit to the side. He stops dead in his tracks as strange dread pierces his stomach. 

“Hi, babe,” Presnel calls. “What are you doing, standing there? Still got a problem with the weather?”

Presnel skips up to him and sticks his hands under Julian’s shirt, laughing. His palms are warm on Julian’s lower back, but a cold gust of air stings at his skin, and he shakes Presnel off.

“Hey, stop ignoring me. What are you looking at - oh!,” Presnel says, voice going from inquisitive to a squeal as he peers over Julian’s shoulder, immediately disentangling himself from him.

“Oh no,” Julian says faintly, and Christopher erupts in loud laughter. Julian grimaces in despair as they watch Presnel beam at the  _ creature  _ who is rubbing itself against his legs. The cat is a scrawny thing, inky black fur and bright yellow eyes that look too big on its bony skull. From where he’s standing, Julian can hear it purr loudly.

“Look how cute he is!” Presnel coos, and Julian swears the cat looks up and straight at  _ him _ , preening under the attention.

“Don’t say that!” Julian hisses, and Presnel frowns distractedly.

“Why?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong? Presko is right, it’s pretty cute.” Christopher says. The cat is still looking at Julian, cocking its head as if asking  _ Yes, Julian, what’s wrong? _

Julian has never had a cat mocking him and he’s not going to start now. He readjusts the strap of his training bag on his shoulder without a word and hurries up the steps. As he gets changed into his training kit, he tries not to think about the unsettling feeling of luminescent eyes following him through the fog and into the building.

Later during training, Julian says to Presnel in hushed tones: “Don’t you think it’s weird? First that weird weather, and now a black cat?”

Presnel tugs at his hands that are clasped between his once again - he insists it’s more efficient than gloves, and Julian can’t really disagree.

“I never knew you were so superstitious, Jule. It’s autumn, of course it’s going to be cold. And that cat was probably just a stray that got a bit lost.”

Julian shakes his head. He’d never been one to fall for the irrational, but there’s something so  _ certain  _ about the anxiety clutching at his gut. Presnel’s thumb rubs soothingly at Julian’s wrist and smiles at him. Julian can only smile back hesitantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what _exactly_ is a day? time is, after all, a relative notion. anyways, I'm not late on my posting schedule. shut up. I'm not.
> 
> on the bright side, I now have an idea of where I'm going with this and I'm excited!! also, that title is growing on me and I've had the song on repeat for the past few hours, so i might end up keeping it. sorry to anyone that expected better from me.
> 
> it was rly hard to make this fit the 400 words but it was a fun challenge! see yall tomorrow for more!


	3. Magic trick

The week had slugged by, heavy and dripping with wet fog, and when Julian gets to training on Monday, he finds Presnel avoiding him. Well, he’s not seeking Julian out at every possible moment, but that basically equates avoidance.

Julian runs his laps with Marco, moodily pulling at his not-warm-enough gloves, and then escapes to the dressing room with a vague excuse.

He sighs in relief as he walks into the building, less tense now that he’s out of the strange mist. It seems worse today, and Julian is pretty sure it’s because Presnel won’t look at him. Just like the dense, stifling cold outside turns his bones to ice and hollows him out, Presnel’s propensity for physical affection is warm in more than just temperature - it bubbles up in Julian’s chest like a laugh, a soft glow smoothing out the prickles of his anxiety.

Julian wanders aimlessly through the corridors, when a rattling sounds has him stopping in front of a bathroom. One of the stall has a wonky lock ever since they had a post-training water fight there, two years ago, and Julian pushes the door without hesitation - maybe someone is stuck in?

He walks to the last stall, and as he realizes it’s empty a frosty gust of air curls around his neck and the heavy bathroom door slams.

The feeling of dread that was murmuring in his stomach suddenly roars and Julian feels panic tingling on his skin. He shakes his head, shuddering - it’s cold, suddenly, and moves to the door, clammy palms clutching at the handle. He pushes, once, twice.

Julian curses under his breath and finds his phone, opens the team group chat, but a notification pops at the top of his screen - no reception.

He breathes in hard. No one has probably noticed him being gone yet, and even when the team gets back from training, why would anyone come by this part of the building?

As soon as he thinks it, the sound of quick footsteps in the corridor proves him wrong, and suddenly Presnel is opening the door sharply. He stares at Julian wide-eyed, before grabbing his hand and tugging him into the corridor.

Julian doesn’t know if it’s the heated corridor or Presnel’s hand closed firmly around his wrist, but relief floods his belly, leaving him panting, leaning against the wall.

“What are you doing here, babe?” Presnel asks, and his tone is light but he’s frowning, his eyes roaming all over Julian.

“How did you open the door? It was locked.”

“It wasn’t,” Presnel shrugs, and he pulls Julian towards him, one arm around his shoulder, and Julian feels tension seep out of him.

“Damn, you’re freezing” Presnel says.

“It was - cold. Really cold, in there.”

“Oh. The window must have been open.”

Julian lets himself be pulled away, Presnel still holding him close. They both know that this bathroom is windowless.

From the side of his eyes, Julian thinks he sees a black tail curl around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, ok, I missed yesterday, but it was my birthday! yay. and I scheduled my day to have time to write another drabble later tonight. also, yes, I went from 400 to 500 words per drabble, because now that I'm trying to do crazy things like a plot, I figured I might need the additional 100 words. I'll also answer comments tonight!! thank you very much, I read them all and they're amazing.
> 
> oh, and I think I'm keeping that title. and I might have bought a vald concert ticket for next month. oh well


End file.
